MOVIE REVIEW: Comedian tackles grief in 'Dean'

Friday

Jun 2, 2017 at 7:00 AM

Demetri Martin does it all as the movie's writer, director and lead actor. But his film, a story about a young New Yorker stunted by a broken engagement and the recent death of his mother, often approaches the emotion-laden issues with honesty and depth, only to be usurped by a stupid gag or remark.

By Al Alexander/For The Patriot Ledger

Given the depth and diversity of Demetri Martin’s talent, it’s not unreasonable to expect his one-man-band production of “Dean” to exceed its Woody Allen-lite ambitions. He’s simply too smart to be this lazy. He’s also too bold to be this timid in tackling the transformative effects of love and death. It’s as if he’s afraid of being perceived as selling out if he allows raw emotion to seep into his feeble stabs at comedy.

His film, a story about a young New Yorker stunted by a broken engagement and the recent death of his mother, is further hobbled by a sameness that makes it hard to distinguish it from like-minded fare emanating from the psyches of Cameron Crowe (“Elizabethtown”), Wes Anderson (“Moonrise Kingdom”), John Krasinski (“The Hollars”) and especially Zach Braff, whose “Garden State” Martin apes right down to the overly thought-out indie-hipster soundtrack. But whereas “Garden State” elicited genuine feelings, “Dean” only makes you cringe over its obviousness.

Martin’s script knows but one thing – irony. It’s his lifeblood, his shtick. But it’s also his downfall, as he tries to stretch his minimalist reactions to the zaniness of the characters surrounding him to the max. Think of it as an uncomfortably extended variation on the short, very funny segment in “Annie Hall” when Woody Allen clumsily attempts to adapt to the superficial L.A. lifestyle, capped off by his sneezing into the cocaine pile. But Martin is not that clever, and certainly not that original. His sight gags can be spotted a mile off. They’re trite, but worse, they rob us of “Dean’s” promise of getting to the heart of why the death of a parent is the most impactful moment in a person’s life.

There are times when “Dean” approaches these feelings with honesty and depth – only to be usurped by yet another stupid gag or remark, as if Martin is afraid we’ll abandon him if he isn’t constantly trying to be funny. It’s as if he can’t see the forest for the pratfalls, completely failing to understand his film’s strength. So he plods along, pushing us further and further away into an emotional void. Or, at least he does in his dual role as the movie’s writer and director. As its lead actor, it’s an entirely different story.

For me, Martin has never lacked appeal. If anything, it has baffled as to why the eternally youthful comic hasn’t become a bigger box-office star. In “Dean,” he only adds to that perplexity. As the title character, he’s uniquely handsome, appearing much younger than his 44 years. And his trademark right-angled nose fits perfectly into the self-deprecating line drawings his character sketches for a living. They also enable Martin, the director, to cleverly incorporate these quirky drawings into the movie, often appearing on split screens, with Dean on one side of the frame and the drawings of what he’s secretly thinking on the other.

Martin coaxes strong performances from the adults in the room: Oscar winners Kevin Kline and Mary Steenburgen, who are outstanding as Dean’s father and potential stepmother. Their scenes are easily the film’s strongest, particularly late in the story when Dad runs smack into a roadblock on his own path to grief recovery. Kudos are also warranted for Gillian Jacobs (so amazing in last summer’s “Don’t Think Twice”), who charms – and surprises – as an elusive love interest for Dean when he flees New York City for Los Angeles in a futile attempt to outrun his grief. Little does he know, Jacobs’ Nicky has some serious baggage of her own.

Theirs is an intriguingly complex relationship that deserves far more study than Martin allows; ditto for the budding romance between Kline and Steenburgen. But the endless possibilities left frustratingly unexplored in both couples somehow escape Martin, who is content to play it safe by playing for laughs that never come. DEAN (PG-13 for language and some suggestive material.) Cast includes Demetri Martin, Kevin Kline, Gillian Jacobs, Mary Steenburgen, Rory Scovel and Reid Scott. Grade: C.